Summary:

“Mr. Hollander, what’s your designation?” One of the doctors, a beta woman with kind eyes, asks, typing away at a nearby computer. “He’s an omega,” Ilya replies for him, because at the moment, all Shane can say is “ow.” “Any chance he’s pregnant?” “Maybe? He’s on suppressants.” Or Shane goes into labor at the cottage, which would be fine, if he’d known he was pregnant.